Brodie stared at the crystal pig, trying to figure out if General Morgan had gone completely off the deep end, or whether he himself was losing his mind from psychedelics and sleep deprivation. “It’s a fine pig, sir.”
“Don’t be a wiseass, Brodie. You’re in shit up to your ears.”
“Yes, sir.”
“You allowed a suspect in your custody to slice open his jugular. I don’t need to be in law enforcement to know you screwed up big-time.”The man sighed. “I have a choice to make here. Do I allow you to continue your investigation, or do I ship you back to Quantico and file a report that will most likely have you both facing criminal charges for aiding a mutiny?”
Neither Brodie nor Taylor responded.
“That was not a rhetorical question, agents.”
Taylor said, “Sir, it is our duty to continue our investigation.”
“Has your investigation figured out what Praetorian is? Klasky told me Dixon found the rogue software in the D-17 code. Or maybe she put it there. Maybe she colluded with the major.”
The agents were silent.
“Klasky wouldn’t have the technical skill to conduct that kind of sabotage. Who was he working with?”
Brodie said, “We cannot share details of an ongoing criminal investigation.”
“Bullshit!” yelled Morgan. He shot up from the couch. “One of those fucking things is still out there, and if it kills anyone else it is onyou, do you understand?”
Brodie stood. “No, sir, it is not. And you do not need to know the details of our investigation to know how to stop it. Your men usually fight a dozen tin men at a time. They should be able to find and neutralize one, and a lame one at that.”
Morgan ground his jaw. “This is different.”
“Right,” said Brodie. “New scenario, new playbook. Maybe you should have been switching it up a little more in training to better prepare them.”
“You’re out of line, Chief.”
Brodie looked at the general, and in that moment something clicked. Brigadier General Morgan was not a member of the conspiracy, but whoever had recommended him for this mission might be. Morgan was a stubborn son of a bitch with an agenda, and it fit that he’d have his men repeat the same drill ad infinitum until they won.After all, doing the same thing over and over should give the best chance of success by virtue of refinement and training. Except, what if the battle is unwinnable? Then it’s just psychological torture. And maybe General Morgan was following the script exactly as his superiors wanted, while thinking he was getting away with something. His own pathologies were being used against him and his men.
What had he said at their dinner? That if the brass saw the Rangers’ repeated losses as a failure, they would have replaced Morgan. He might not have known just how right he was.
Do it.
Bucky wanted them at each other’s throats. ItwantedGreer to shoot Miller in the back.
Brodie thought of Greer up on the mesa when the full memory of that awful moment had come back to him.Oh my God. What are these things?
He thought about Colonel Howe, and Major Klasky, and Captain Pickman. It was a toxic stew of personalities, primed to explode under stress. And maybe that was the point. Maybe everything about this place was part of a psyop.
Brodie said, “Sir, I strongly suggest you put a tight and well-resourced security perimeter around the Vault and let no one in, for any reason whatsoever. Not even those you feel you trust most.”
Morgan’s eyes narrowed. “And why is that?”
“Because even if you neutralize Lenny, we’re not out of the woods.”
“What does that mean?”
Neither of them responded.
“Goddammit. If you have intelligence that will help me better protect my people—”
Taylor interrupted, “We told you how to protect your people. Seal off the Vault. Keep things quiet.” She added, “No more public fireworks displays.”
Morgan didn’t seem to like that. But he did not respond.
